Tom Riddle's Diary
by Morgana5
Summary: What exactly DID Ginny Weasley write in Tom Riddles diary? See my bio for details on this one.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, Hogwarts, Ginny, Tom, or anything else, that privilege goes to the lucky JK Rowling. I don't even really own the plot, it's basically CoS from Ginny's point of view, through Riddle's Diary.  
  
A/N: Ever wonder what Ginny said to Tom in her diary? This is my version. Hope you like it!  
  
September 1  
  
Dear Diary,  
  
I'm one of those girls who doesn't stand out in a crowd. I'm one of those girls that you probably wouldn't remember a few months from now. I'm one of those girls with nothing extraordinary about me. I'm Ginny Weasley.  
  
*Why do you think such a thing, Miss Ginny Weasley?*  
  
Who? What? Did someone just write in my diary right before my eyes?  
  
*Yes and no. Perhaps I should introduce myself, before I frighten you any more.  
  
My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle. I was once a student at Hogwarts, a brilliant student, might I add. But I had no one to talk to, no one to confide in. And so I created this diary. I'm sure you're wondering what I am. A ghost, perhaps? No, Ginny, I am not a ghost, as I am pretty sure you are guessing. I am a memory, a memory of myself at sixteen. I am a memory preserved in this diary, someone you can confide in, without worrying that I will tell anyone your secrets.*  
  
This is incredible, diary. Er, should I say, Tom. I never guessed that such a shabby looking book would possess such power. I found this in one of my schoolbooks, you know. I got them all secondhand. You see, I love my mum and dad, but they can't afford much. I wouldn't mind, except that people wonder and pry, and-  
  
*I know, Ginny. I was a poor and penniless orphan once. But Hogwarts became a home to me, and so it shall for you.*  
  
Tom? If you don't mind, I'm going to bed. I'm simply exhausted. I'll write more tomorrow.  
  
*Goodnight, Ginny.*  
  
September 2  
  
Dear Tom,  
  
Will I ever learn all these rules? There are so many to remember! And all the different corridors, and passages, and changing staircases, it's all so confusing! And the lessons, they're just so hard. I thought that I would be ahead, coming here from an all-magic family, but I'm not.  
  
*Don't worry, you shall soon catch up. Everyone does, in the end.*  
  
I hope so. This morning, I was horribly embarrassed. My older brother Ron and his best friend flew my dad's car into the Womping Willow, and they were seen by muggles. Mum sent Ron a Howler, and it shrieked at him for five minutes straight! And then, as if it wasn't bad enough already, she congratulated me on making Gryffindor, and said all this ridiculously sappy stuff.  
  
*You're in Gryffindor?*  
  
Yes. What house were you in?  
  
*If I tell you, will you hate me?*  
  
I don't think so.  
  
*I was in Slytherin. But don't you think, even for a minute, that I'm like all those other Slytherins! Because I'm not. I've never been one to form impressions based on houses. I generally like to get to know people first. I hope you won't judge me too quickly.*  
  
Do you mean that? You won't hate me just because I'm in Gryffindor? Because right now, I really need a friend. Mum told Ron to look out for me, but he's no help.  
  
*You can always talk to me, Ginny. And I will always listen.*  
  
Thank you so much Tom! I've got to go now, but I'll write more later.  
  
September 2, later  
  
Dear Tom,  
  
I suppose you've never heard of Harry Potter.  
  
*No, I haven't . Why should I?*  
  
Oh, he was after your time, I would've been surprised if you had heard of him.  
  
*Tell me?*  
  
Do you know who You-Know-Who is?  
  
*His name is Voldemort. And yes.*  
  
Well, when Harry was just a baby, You-Kn, I mean Voldemort, killed Harry's parents. But when he tried to kill Harry, the spell reversed itself, and hit Voldemort, reducing him to a mere shadow, or so Dumbledore says.  
  
*Dumbledore? You know Dumbledore?*  
  
Yes, he's the headmaster. Do you know him?  
  
*He was the transfiguration teacher in my time. But never mind, that's of no importance. Continue.*  
  
Anyway, last year, Harry met up with Voldemort again, and defeated him again.  
  
*So Harry's a big hero.*  
  
Yes, and that's not all he's done. He's smart, and he was the first year ever to be picked for the house quidditch team. He plays Seeker, and he's quite good. He's never lost a match. To top it off, he's Ron's best friend.  
  
*Is he your friend too?*  
  
I wish he was. But he'll never be my friend. Why would he want to be friends with poor little Ginny Weasley? To him, I'm just another red-haired Weasley, Ron's little sister.  
  
*Ginny, I-*  
  
Stop, Tom! Ron's coming over here, I've got to stop writing.  
  
*Goodbye, then.*  
  
September 5  
  
Dear Tom,  
  
I'm sorry it's been so long. Snape assigned us an extra-long essay during our first class. He's a nightmare, he frightens me. He's got long greasy hair and a hooked nose, and a fondness for torturing us Gryffindors. He's head of Slytherin, so it figures. Oh, sorry, I forgot. You were in Slytherin.  
  
*Not with Snape. I never knew him.*  
  
Well, consider yourself lucky. He's not at all nice. He's always threatening us. I don't know why Dumbledore doesn't sack him.  
  
*Oh, I'm sure old Dumbledore has got his reasons, however strange they maybe.*  
  
Tom, don't you like Dumbledore?  
  
*He was a fair enough teacher, I suppose. What bothered me was how meddlesome he was, always sticking his long nose in my business, always suspecting me for everything.*  
  
But Ron says that Dumbledore is the best headmaster Hogwarts has ever seen.  
  
*Perhaps he's changed, then.*  
  
I suppose. Listen, I'm sorry, but I've got to go finish my Charms homework. I'll write more when I can.  
  
*Have fun.*  
  
September 5  
  
Dear Tom,  
  
Today was Friday, so this afternoon, I went down and visited Hagrid. I figured he'd be nice, since Ron's always talking to him. Also, I thought that maybe I'd run into Harry, but no luck.  
  
*Hagrid? Rubeus Hagrid is still at Hogwarts? I thought-*  
  
What do you mean, Tom? Did you know Hagrid?  
  
*Oh, I knew Hagrid all right. Keep away from him, Ginny! Don't listen to what he says! And, most importantly, don't mention me to him, or anyone, for that matter.*  
  
I won't, Tom. But what's wrong with Hagrid? Ron and Harry are friends with him.  
  
*Hagrid can be deceiving, Ginny. Remember that.*  
  
I will. I've got to go, it's dinner time.  
  
*Happy eating, Ginny.*  
  
A/N: You like? Yes? No? Maybe? Review and tell me if you want more! Cuz I'm not gonna do a whole lot of work if no one's gonna read it! Ten reviews before I continue! 


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, wish I did, but I don't, so too bad for me.  
  
A/N: k, here's a nice long chapter for all of you who read my first one. Ppl who review, I love you! 4ever! I won't be able to post anything for awhile, cuz I'm going on a ski vacation. Fun. So, I hope you like this. Please review!  
  
September 10  
  
Dear Tom,  
  
I'm terribly sorry I haven't written in so long! I've just been so busy, you can't even imagine. I had my first Defense Against the Dark Arts class with Lockhart yesterday, and the day before that I had transfiguration, and of course Snape's still horrible, and-  
  
*Ginny, slow down please, I can't process all this so fast. I'm not mad at you for not writing, if that's what you're worrying about. Start over from the beginning, now.*  
  
Okay, sorry. I'll start with transfiguration, I guess. McGonagall's head of Gryffindor, but you'd never guess it, with all the homework she loads on. She's got a fabulously dry sense of humor that is quite funny until you are the object of her jokes. I found that out quickly. I'm absolutely hopeless at transfiguration, you see. Oh, I can get something to happen, just never the right thing.  
  
*Transfiguration, hmmm. It's been so long since I transfigured anything, stuck in this horrid book for fifty years. You haven't got any idea how wonderful it is to have a correspondent, Ginny.  
  
But back to the point. Let me see, perhaps I could help you. Transfiguration? I'm sure I can help you, I was always rather good at it, though Dumbledore did nothing to encourage me. Never seemed to like me. But yes, I think I can help.*  
  
If you don't mind my asking, Tom, how?  
  
*Come into my memory, Ginny. If you'll just say yes, I can bring you into my memory of a Transfiguration lesson, into my very head, and you can see how I did it.*  
  
Are you sure? I mean, do you know if it'll work?  
  
*Say yes, Ginny.*  
  
Will it take much time? I won't get stuck or anything, I'd hate-  
  
*SAY IT.*  
  
Oh, well, um, yes.  
  
~Into the Diary~  
  
A large hole opened up in the page that Ginny had been writing in. Some force that Ginny couldn't have fought even if she wanted to pushed her forward, into the gaping hole, and she felt herself falling. At first there was a whirl of colors, and then Ginny's world went black.  
  
Just as suddenly, Ginny's eyes flew open- or rather, Tom's did. It was as if someone had whipped a blindfold off Ginny's face, and she had had her eyes open the entire time- there was just something in the way.  
  
"Mr. Riddle!" Ginny looked around and saw an auburn-haired professor. Dumbledore, she thought, though a much younger Dumbledore.  
  
Tom jumped, and Ginny felt a tremor run through her own body. Tom deftly slipped the book he was hiding inside his transfiguration textbook into his bag. Ginny strained, looking through the corners of Tom's eyes, but couldn't catch the title. She mentally made a note to ask Tom about it later.  
  
"Yes, Professor?"  
  
"How is the cucumber coming, hmm?" Ginny saw that Dumbledore's face held a bemused expression, but his eyes didn't. Rather, they had on their usual probing expression, along with the look a judge gives a criminal that is obviously guilty but hasn't been proven so yet.  
  
"Ah, well, let's see. I'm sure I can transform it to a rat. It's just the squeaking that I'm a bit worried about."  
  
"Well, let's see then. I'll help if you get stuck." Tom nodded and cleared his throat.  
  
"Ratacra Sempra!" Tom cried, but Ginny knew from past experience that just the words weren't enough. Tom knew it too,  
  
Ginny heard-no, felt, Tom's thinking. She felt him picturing every single detail of the cucumber, it's color, texture and size, then felt him changing the cucumber, pruning it, like a gardener. Tweaking things, changing them, but never totally cutting them off. The cucumber became a rat.  
  
But Tom wasn't done. Ginny felt him delve into the poor creature's mind, which knew only sun and photosynthesis, as did a cucumber, and begin the same pruning process. And soon, the rat was squeaking.  
  
"That was an adequate performance, Mr. Riddle," Dumbledore said. Tom nodded curtly, and the memory began to fade.  
  
~Back to the Real World~  
  
Tom?  
  
*Yes.*  
  
Thank you?  
  
*Why do you make it a question?*  
  
It was. . . a unique experience. I don't know if it's going to help me, but I suppose it can't hurt me. Just one question: what was the book you were reading?  
  
*What book?*  
  
The one you had behind your textbook. I couldn't see the title.  
  
*I don't know what you're talking about, Ginny.*  
  
What? What do you mean, of course you do, it was right at the beginning of the memory, you were-  
  
*Perhaps you were confused. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.*  
  
Oh, I think I'm all right. But I guess it'd be good if I took a nap or something. I'll finish telling you about Lockhart and Snape tomorrow.  
  
September 11  
  
Dear Tom,  
  
Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you-  
  
*For what? Taking you into my memory?*  
  
Yes! I did ever so much better in potions today, you have no idea! Of course, I'm nowhere near as good as Kelly Patil, but still.  
  
*Right, well, I'll help you again if you ever need it.*  
  
Thanks.  
  
*So, who's this Lockhart fellow?*  
  
Oh, him. Well, to start, he's supposed to be just brilliant, he's got a grand total of seven (I think) books about him. He's a complete joke in the classroom, though. Hasn't got a clue. He flatters himself far too much, then fails to convey whatever he's supposed to be teaching. I'd feel sorry for him, but it's hard, what with all the bravado he puts up.  
  
*Reminds me of someone.*  
  
Who?  
  
*No one. Forget it.*  
  
No! You can tell me, Tom. Your secret's safe with me. Anyway, I'm after your time. Who could I possibly tell?  
  
*I don't think you'd care for the answer.*  
  
What's that supposed to mean? Honestly, it's not a big deal. Don't tell me if you don't want to. I just thought you were my friend. After all, I've been telling you everything, and now you can't answer one simple question!  
  
*Ginny, I-*  
  
Goodbye!  
  
*Ginny, open this book up right now!*  
  
September 12  
  
Dear Tom,  
  
I'm sorry. I shouldn't gotten so angry yesterday. Everybody's got their secrets, I suppose. It was my own choice to tell you mine, so I guess I can't blame you if you want to hide something. I just wish-  
  
*What, Ginny? What do you wish for? Is it something I can give you?*  
  
To some extent, yes. But not completely.  
  
*Tell me, Ginny.*  
  
All I want is a friend, Tom. I want to be able to walk into the common room and see a seat reserved for me. I want to have someone to gossip with. No offense or anything, but you haven't exactly got the latest rumors. I don't know what you've got at all, really. I barely know you, Tom. I don't even know if I want to. After all, you can't even apologize to me.  
  
*Ginny, hear me out. I've always been one of those perfect boys. I was a top student, brave, polite, and charmingly handsome in my time. Prefect, then Head Boy. I'd like to say I was nice. But I wasn't. Not at all. I was cold, sarcastic, and selfish. I hated it, but couldn't change it. That was the way I was. And I hope I can be a better friend to you, but I can't apologize. I was never wrong, Ginny, and I still can't admit it if I make a mistake. Because if I can't like my personality, I at least need the comfort of knowing that I'm always right. That I'm perfect.*  
  
Tom, why are you that way?  
  
*Tomorrow. I'll tell you tomorrow. Go to bed now.*  
  
All right. Good night, Tom. 


End file.
